The Magic Of Muggles
by Emmie The Evil
Summary: On a dark, dark night, possibly the greatest threat Hogwarts has ever seen enters the grounds... Can Snape save the day?


The Magic Of Muggles

Snape was in a dark mood as he climbed the stairs to the Headmaster's office, and, with skills honed from decades of sour experiences, he darkened it still further by recalling the particularly dense actions of Gryffindor first year earlier in the day. It was bad enough, he fumed, allowing muggleborn's with as much magical knowledge as your average flobberworm starting on the same level as purebloods who've lived with magic all their lives, but... He paused on the stairs, gritted his teeth, and clenched his fists in a magnificent example in how to maintain a frustrated rage... but supposedly "upper-class" muggleborns who feel the need to try and impress their pureblood peers with poorly made muggle finery should be expelled before they even pass the gates! Snape outwardly cringed at the memory of Gregory Mountgould pouring the potentially potent ingredients of a simple doxycide into a crystal cauldron. A _crystal _cauldron! It was forgiveable, perhaps, for a student not to know that crystal can act as a major catalyst. But to blatantly ignore the simple instructions on the Hogwarts equipment list was sheer stupidity! The resulting explosion had taken a full hour to clean up, not to mention the considerable damage caused to the students' bodies.

"Ah, Severus, glad you could come so swiftly", said Albus Dumbledore from the top of the stairs.

"I fear we have a problem of a somewhat unusual nature, and I'd be most grateful for your assistance"

Snape composed himself as he climbed the last few stairs to the office, and frowned. "I fail to recall quite when we last had a problem that could be considered 'usual'", commented Snape, "but as you've summoned me at 2:00 in the morning I assume this is going to be rather more interesting than most?"

"Rather more interesting, yes", agreed Dubledore, "and also worrying. A muggle has entered the Hogwarts grounds".

Snape blinked. "But that's impossible! Any fool knows that Hogwarts has the best defences magic can provide!"

Dumbledore smiled, "and yet, if you look out the window, the evidence before us suggests otherwise. One thing I allow myself to take a little pride in, Severus, is my ability to see a fact that has been presented directly before my nose. An ability that is surprisingly rare amongst many of our colleagues.

Snape peered out of the office window into the moonlit night. Sure enough, zig-zagging haphazardly through Hagrid's garden, the dark figure of a human in what looked like jeans and t-shirt could be clearly seen. Snape sighed. "I'll get to the bottom of this straight away".

"Thank you, Severus", said Dumbledore.

High Priest and Grand Prime Wizard, Dave Ramsbottom, of the North Kettering New Age Occultist and Line Dancing Society, tried once again to get his bearings from the stars and fell, rather unceremoniously, onto his backside. Despite the ever increasing pile of evidence to the contrary, Dave still refused to admit to himself that this trip into the natural wilds of Britain had been a mistake. Yes, it may have been a little unwise to refuse all modern technology, including maps and GPS, from the moment they left the warm, if rather cramped, 707 to Shrewton. Yes, it may have been a tad misguided to anticipate that natural spirits would grant them the knowledge to build a magnificent shelter out of trees and leaves. And yes, it may even have been a bit overly optimistic to assume that most of their nutrient needs could be accounted for by foraging nature's bounty of berries and herbs. But the outing could still have been a success... _would _have been a success... if it wasn't for Jeff and his insistence that the 'mushrooms' in their evening soup were not only perfectly edible, but delicious.

Dave vomited for the umpteenth time and a small amount of sobriety returned briefly to his brain. He stood up, and stared uncertainly in front of him. His search for help had not gone well. In his blurred vision he thought he could make out the silhouette of a large castle. 'Impossible', thought Dave, 'the nearest castle is more than fifty miles from where we should be!' The mushrooms in Dave's system made another assault on his rational mind. 'I must have flown here!', he concluded with glee.

Without warning a black cloaked figure materialised in the air in front of him. It waved its arms threateningly and began to speak in a terrifying devilish language. It's face was a dark blur and, judging by the aurora of evil that radiated from it, Dave's life was in grave danger. But Dave was no coward. Dave was, was he not, a Grand Prime Wizard and High Priest!? Had he not just flown unaided for over 50 miles!? And what this evil beast was blissfully unaware of was that, only two weeks before, he, Dave, had been given, personally by the Lord High Wizard and Master Line Dancer of Central England, a wand of great and ancient power. Dave was not going down without a fight!

Snape took a deep breath and tried again. "My name is Snape and you are trespassing on private property. Could you please come with me and we shall arrange transport back to your dwelling". Even for a muggle this example seemed particularly stupid. The reason, Snape concluded, that it had made its way past all of Hogwarts' magical mind deceiving defences was that it didn't have enough of a mind to deceive. "For the sake of all that's good, will you _please_ just follow me?!?". Snape's frustration suddenly turned to stunned disbelief. The muggle, wobbling somewhat uncertainly from foot to foot, had drawn what appeared to be an old twig from deep within its trousers and was waving it in what it obviously thought was a threatening manner. It began to make some loud, if indistinct, attempts at speaking. Snape couldn't help himself. Curiosity got the better of him and he leaned forward to try and make out the words...

Dave vomited.

The world spun violently, and then briefly settled. Dave opened the eyes that he'd closed in terror mid spell. It had worked! The devil creature was lying on the floor covered in some sort of orange plasma and screaming in apparent agony! He had done it! He'd used real magic! He was the greatest wizard that Britain had seen since Merlin! The mushrooms regrouped and made yet another assault at Dave's feeble grip on reality. He collapsed into unconsciousness.

A somewhat damp and foul smelling Snape stood in Dumbledore's office. "The problem has been dealt with, Headmaster," said Snape, "and if you have no further use of me, I shall retire for the night".

"Thank you, Severus, I shall leave you to your well deserved slumber" replied Dumbledore, and he was kind enough to let Snape walk well out of earshot before he succumbed to a long burst of laughter.


End file.
